Stay Strong
by pussycatwithattitude
Summary: He never read the letter, the words which she intended to give him. Now she is lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines and he needs to know. Gene reads Alex's letter by her bedside. Gene/Alex


His wrinkled hands held the folded piece of paper, inside the words which she had written. His heavy breathing filled the silence of the room - added to that the continuous beeping of the various machines - and the four walls he felt confined between shone with the resemblance of the room he now spent the majority of time within. The plain, white walls elaborating the fear at one glance. He hoped to be in the vicinity of the four, coloured walls with the added sense of foreign textures and colours. To be back in the restaurant in which she had previously accompanied him each night. Back in Luigi's with the team; pretending everything was normal; pretending the past month has been lived in a lie. A vortex of time.

He was scared.

Scared of her words; scared that she may actually leave him.

Running his thumb across the smooth texture of the paper, he eventually forced his inner sanctum to open, and unfold the letter with the intention of carefully reading her equally careful written words. His eyes feasted immediately on the delicate handwriting, and which he proposed his colleague had spent a due amount of time on providing.

"_Gene,"_

Start with my name. My first name. You never did abide by the rules of referring to my authoritive name. Then again, our connection was too strong for you to call me by the simple "Gov." in these circumstances. You're no Chris, and you're no Shaz. And you're definitely not Ray. You're Alex - you're Bols, and therefore you have permission.

Just don't waggle your fingers when you say my name.

"_I doubt you will ever understand my reasons for leaving you, but believe me if I had the choice I would live in both worlds."_

There you go again, the unusual words that turn my brain in liquid. Like a heart, melting as it's eyes view on something beautiful, and something amazing. Your words never did make sense, and although you happened to be the most amazing and skilled police officer I have ever had the fortune - some could say misfortune - of coming across, I have been elated to have you and your French knickers and permed hair on my team.

You could be here. Beside me every day, and although I doubt I would ever verbalise such words to your face while you're awake… I will miss you. Your annoying, gobby-like self as you stand up for what you believe in. CID is a heart; a vital organ in your body that you can't live without. You're part of that now; you can't leave.

"_But I have to go back. In the words of all mothers - family comes first. Molly needs me, and as long as she needs me, I can't be anywhere else. I have to fight - I have fought since I arrived with you, and I've been suffering inside ever since. Her face appears in my dreams - sometimes hidden, sometimes there. Like, gloating at me that I can't be beside her. Putting her to sleep, or taking her to school. If you were a father, you would understand."_

You never spoke about her. Your little girl. Those words were just about the limitation of your conversation surrounding her. As for fighting, well there was always an element of that within you, however none of us paid much attention to that. We simply thought it was your tenacious way of thinking and dealing with the case at hand.

"_I can't fight anymore. I've tried, and if I've gone, I won't be fighting to come back. I don't have the strength anymore… Not like you."_

You're the strong one, Bols. Yes, I'll go around beating every idiot of a man who gets in the way of my line of work, but you were always the strong one. Muscles don't mean a thing when it comes to that inner strength to keep going; how you're fighting now. Your arguments to keep us in the right line and way of going about things. You were strong. You still are. Always will be.

"_By the time you read this, I will probably be gone. I don't know how; I don't know why, and I'm not particularly sure when…"_

Right you are there. Believe it or not, I've been into your desk drawer to retrieve this letter, months after you intended me to open this. But I had to know. Your chocolate brown eyes fail to open, and as your parched, dry lips fail to speak a word each and every day, the belief that you will awake slims after each group of twenty four hours passes. To see you open your eyes again, just to argue with you one last time would be perfection in itself. That's why I had to do it. And I hope you can forgive me, but I needed to know.

I needed to know your last words, even if intended for so long ago.

"… _But I will hopefully be gone. I'll miss your voice, and I will miss those crocodile boots strutting around the department with the air of independence and authority you give off each time you enter through those doors. We all bow at your feet, and I'm sure you're not oblivious to that. Like a big, cuddly puppy, you love the attention you receive."_

"I am not a sissy, little cuddly puppy!"

I apologize to the nurses as my voice raises. The chair by your side is uncomfortable, or possibly because I spend half my time sat, and sleeping, upon it. With each of your hands placed above the thin, white duvet cover, at least you look alive. Your porcelain, pale complexion frightens me into thinking you might not come back, but the truth is I need you. Without you, the world falls to pieces. And it's not only me who would agree.

"_So, believe this or not Gene Hunt. But I will miss you. Quite a lot. You were there, when I needed you most as a child, you were there. I never knew it, but it was you. My guardian angel."_

… And you won't mind me saying I have no idea what the bloody hell you're on about, Bols. Maybe another imaginative default in your overactive mind, I don't know. And I don't particularly intend on being your guardian angel - following you around everywhere and making sure you don't get into trouble doesn't particularly ride well with me. However, I find myself surprised when reading this, that you would actually admit that.

You're the strong one, Bols.

"_So, goodbye Gene. I never found out who, or what you represent, but I'll be content with what I already know. That you're an amazing man, who certainly makes a difference in this world."_

I'm the Gene Genie. I don't represent anyone.

"_Love Alex xxx"_

"You don't have to say goodbye, Bols. You'll wake up."


End file.
